Open the Door
by Arami Heartilly
Summary: Hungary 1989. Roderich had written often and for years she had failed to understand why or how. She's been closed off, shut away from the rest of the world and it should have been impossible. But now, forty years after it closed, the border to Austria is opening up again and Elizaveta waits, hoping he'll be there but not knowing what to do or say if he is. AusHun Complete.


Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, this story has been written purely for entertainment value and no money has or will exchange hands.

Authors Note:The idea and first draft for this were in the same notebook as my USUK Fic but it hadn't been touched in years! I actually bought a book on the history of Hungary to get a better idea of some of the dates involved and how things were in the country after the second world war. None of that is mentioned in detail here but it gave me a better footing when writing this (It was also really interesting reading). I also have to note that I have no idea what the 'opening of the borders' would have looked like and I couldn't find any pictures or anything so I've taken liberties with that. Human and country names used. I've included several Historical notes at the end of this to explain a few things in more detail for anyone who's interested. Many, Many thanks to my awesome friend and Beta Reader **RobinRocks** who convinced me to type this all up in the first place!

* * *

Open the Door

By Arami Heartilly

_Hungary, 1989_

It had been a long time, at least in the lives of her population, if not her own. Yet she had felt each and every one of those days pass slowly and without meaning. He had written often and for years she had failed to understand why. She was closed off now, shut away from the rest of the world, and had refused Ivan's invitations with a forced grace and careful countenance.

Her government did as they chose and she saw no reason to argue, after 1956 all she really wanted to do was hide away in her house - in the home that was never his. There she could pretend it didn't hurt and cry as often as she liked and no one forced comfort upon her.

And still he wrote.

She wasn't exactly sure how he managed it. She was, she thought outside his reach and almost certainly separated from the international postal service (Or at the very least banned from contact with other nations). But none the less once - sometimes twice a week - a letter arrived from Roderich.

He told her of everything and nothing all at the same time. There had been no word of politics or international relations save for the letter that told of Gilbert's continuing survival as the East side of the new German nation. He had spoken of music, of flowers, the weather and his household and all the changes therein. But whatever he said, Roderich never changed how he wrote them.

Things had been difficult after the forced end of their marriage but they had still seen each other, still spoken and still met. They hadn't wanted another war - so few people did that such an event had been met with a sense of dread. Elizaveta still remembered the indecision her government had faced in the light of the choice between the Axis and the Allied Forces. In the end, after a tragedy brought on by the weight of such a decision, they sided with the Germans.

It hadn't mattered that she was on the same side as Roderich, they had been pulled in so many different directions and so much had happened that any time they'd had together seemed so small and inconsequential.

Now though, in her silence and solitude, Elizaveta had time to reflect and remember. She had kept every letter, lay quietly for hours as she tried to recall the beautiful music that had once filled a house that had finally become her home.

She wasn't naive, not about matters of the heart, but her stubbornness had stood in the way of her happiness in the early years of her marriage. It had taken her longer than perhaps it should have done to see the situation with Roderich for what it could and would become.

He had protected her when she could not fight alone and in return she had done much the same. It had occurred to her that he was trying to do the same thing again, throwing her a lifeline and a familiar narrative in such empty times. He never needed a reply, simply kept writing and although it was never said she would see the 'I love you, I love you, I love you' written into every one.

Elizaveta, having long ago realised her feelings, had never retracted them. That she loved Roderich was unchanged and her trust in him, perhaps the most important thing next to love, was steadfast.

That, really, was why the whole time apart from the world had passed the way it had. She had wasted no time in acknowledging that the freedoms she still craved had once again been denied and this time there was no aristocratic but loving husband to share her time with.

Things had been changing recently, perhaps because of her feelings or those of her people. But either way things were about to change. Within the next hour or so the borders to Austria would be open once again.

It had been requested that she attend - although not in an official capacity, so she had made sure to be clean and reasonably well clothed. Her hair was down, falling over her shoulders and coat with her flowers tucked next to her right ear. Her dress fell below her knees in a dark green and her light brown overcoat was buttoned to the waist.

There was a part of her that very much wanted Roderich to be there and another that didn't know what to do if he was. As horrible as things had been before she was closed off, she'd at least known what to expect.

So she just stood there waiting for whatever was or wasn't going to happen. She might have been there hours or minutes but it didn't register.

Nothing registered.

Until a young man approached her.

"Miss Hedevary?" She turned to him slowly.

"Yes?" There seemed to be no point in denying it since he clearly already knew who she was.

"Would you accompany me, there is someone who wishes to see you." He was dressed smartly but not too formally. He spoke Hungarian well but his accent wasn't quite right. She followed him anyway.

They didn't have to walk for very long, Roderich was stood a little way in front of them. His coat was long and black with a suit jacket and crisp white shirt underneath. He too had likely been advised to dress in such a way that he wouldn't stand out. His face was pale but set firm and his glasses sat steadfast on his nose. His hair was a little longer than she remembered and his glasses looked new but otherwise he looked the same as always..

He didn't move towards her though and Elizaveta found that she understood why. Having never replied to him, he would have no real indication of how welcome his letters would have been to her. She hadn't, of course, known how to write to him in return though…. Maybe he was giving her the chance to do so now.

To walk away would be to never respond but to continue walking towards him would be the answer to his questions. The aide had left them in peace amongst the gathering of people around them and Elizaveta was almost right in front of Roderich before he spoke.

"I'm glad to see you," he said softly in Hungarian. Elizaveta felt her lips curl upwards slightly in an involuntary but not unwelcome motion.

"And I you," she replied. A feeling of calm seemed to settled around her and she realised it was the first thing she had properly, clearly felt in a long time. She stepped forwards again until there was barely any space separating them. He met her eyes then and opened himself up to her in the way he used to, in the way he had been trying to do over and over again all the time they had been separated with his letters.

Elizaveta was aware that had she looked away, he would have taken no offence and would probably have waited for her to speak or to move. But she kept her eyes open and focused on him. He wasn't asking for anything that he wasn't willing to give in return. It hadn't always been that way but they had come along way in their marriage and she supposed that things such as this, once learnt are never forgotten.

Elizaveta hoped it meant he could read her as well as he once had because all she really wanted him to know, all she wanted her eyes to tell him was I still love you, I still trust you and I've missed you. He smiled and she felt his cool fingers brush against her own, she twisted her hands so that her fingers laced with his and leaned forwards just slightly so that their foreheads pressed together. Elizaveta closed her eyes and breathed deeply, concentrating on the fingers woven with her own, Roderich's closeness and contentment washing over her.

* * *

They had stood together for a long time and eventually Elizaveta had stood back and let go of one of his hands. The other she kept firm in her grip and Roderich had made it clear in his body language that he would follow her where she lead.

So she took him to the car and he turned to indicate to his people that this was what he wanted. Elizaveta still had hold of his hand when they reached her house. It hadn't even been a conscious choice but he had sat next to her in the back of the car and stayed close to her side. He did the same when they stepped out into the grounds of her estate.

The garden had been tended to and the flowers blew in the breeze, it smelt fresh and clean to her senses and she realised she had stopped noticing years and years ago what it smelt like. The weather was clearing and the sun was brighter in the sky than it had seemed in months and she wondered whether or not that was true or if, like the flowers, it had always been that way but she hadn't cared enough to notice.

Roderich followed her still and didn't speak, he seemed to treat their joined hands as a lifeline and she didn't want to deny him. All this time his letters had been hers after all. They only separated to remove their coats before she took his hand again and lead him through the house.

When the door to her main sitting room was closed behind them and they were alone, Elizaveta realised she had no idea how to even start to explain everything or what to say.

"Your house is beautiful," Roderich said, breaking the silence.

"It's been well looked after, my staff here work hard and in return I do what I can to make them more comfortable."

He smiled. "Sounds as though you are a better master of the house than I ever was." There was no malice or criticism in his tone, only a fondness Elizaveta had keenly missed.

"Roderich…"

"Things are a little better than they were out there." His free hand made a sweeping gesture towards one of the long windows. "The other Nations are more accepting, Britain and America have cooled their tempers for the time being and although things are still hard, they are not what they were." It was the first news she'd had from him about the world outside her borders.

"Thank you," She told him and he nodded. "I can't say I care too much for getting involved in all that again but when I do - and I know I will have to - I'm glad it's not the same."

"It got worse for a while but it's better again now," he added and she would ask later (much later) what he meant by that.

"For now just having my borders opened up to yours is all I can concentrate on." She admitted, feeling overwhelmed and not at all her old and boisterous self. She had come to terms with her isolation and although she was both relieved and happy to see Roderich again, it felt like waking from a long and heavy sleep.

"It's more than I'd hoped for." Roderich's voice was quiet but he chanced looking up at her and she smiled, albeit sadly, but the rest of her words still wouldn't come, at least not the ones she wanted to use.

"You can stay for as long as you like, I can have a message sent to bring your things if you need me to."

Strong relief washed over his face and broke through his calm facade for just a moment.

"Thank you, I'll get everything arranged and have my things brought over by this evening." His face was schooled back into a neutral expression but his eyes were shining.

"I'll have a room made up for you and it will just be us for dinner." It felt like such a formal and old fashioned thing to say yet it was the first thing to come to mind. It had just been so long since she'd had to play host to anyone and this was, after all, the first time he had ever seen her house.

Roderich, ever the aristocrat just gave a slight nod of his head and said; "Very good, would you show me around?"

She nodded. "You can let my staff know what message needs to be sent and to where, we'll head to see them first."

"Alright." Roderich gave a small nod again and let her lead him out of the room.

* * *

Evening came and they'd settled into dinner after a long walk around her house and grounds, it wasn't anything too lavish but it was still a place she was proud of.

They ate together and talked about the other nations, how Roderich was certain Alfred and Arthur had been sleeping together for years (but pretending they weren't), of Feli and Ludwig (though he wasn't quite sure what - if anything - was actually going on there). Even how Gilbert was doing now, though it was clear that was entirely for her benefit as forty years didn't seem to have improved relations between the two of them, but she understood what he was trying to do and welcomed it.

Afterwards she led him to the music room, she'd left this until last just to see the smile on his face as he walked through the doors. It didn't disappoint and she smiled in return.

"Elizaveta, it's beautiful." She wasn't sure if he meant the grand piano or the room but she didn't care.

He let go of her hand (they always gravitated back to each other when walking) and walked into the centre of the room and ran his hand along the polished wood. The room was large and spacious with high ceilings and large windows with heavy pale blue curtains. There were large comfy chairs in pale colours in the corners of the room as well as bookshelves filled with music for the piano and the violin.

When she looked again at Roderich, he was looking at the violin case on the green chair nearest the piano.

"Do you still play?" Roderich asked.

Elizaveta shook her head. She had wanted to, really wanted to, but it wasn't the same without his gentle but firm instruction and the pleased look on his face when she finally learnt something well enough to play with him. Elizaveta was sure she could practice again and that it would all come back - he'd taught her for years (even if she never had enough patience to practice when she was meant to) - but only if Roderich stayed long enough to play with her. Music wasn't an escape to her, she couldn't let herself go inside it the way he could… unless he was playing _for_ her.

"I still have the piano and other instruments tuned and looked after though." Because that violin had been an anniversary gift and she hadn't wanted to ever let it go or fall into disrepair. "And I kept all of the music, some of my staff have even added to it over the years."

"I can see that." He was carefully pulling out pieces and music books before sliding them back into place again. After another few minutes he found one he wanted to play and opened the piano up, testing the keys idly as he sat down.

Elizaveta moved and sat herself down in the chair closest to the piano, pulled her feet up and slid off her shoes then curled her feet and legs up until she was sat snugly in the chair. Roderich glanced her way before he started playing, a small soft smile on his lips.

She knew this piece, even if not by name, it was one he had played to her often in the past and it brought with it happier memories and a deeper sense of calm. But instead of finding herself slipping back into a dreamlike state, Elizaveta felt the fog clouding her mind lift and float away.

The room and the world became clearer as he continued on and she watched, fascinated, as he unveiled her new reality with his playing. He looked free and happy sat there, his formal playing style abandoned as he lost himself in an instrument that had become an extension of himself. Roderich was often shy but give him music and he would tell you how he felt with every bar, feelings resonated in the harmonies woven by his strong yet careful hands.

Elizaveta had missed him and the clarity of it made her grateful for her years of faded awareness and clouded reality. She was glad not to have spent so much time with the clear pain and loss etched in her heart. Roderich likely knew that and may have even chose to play this piece on purpose.

He had missed her too, that she had known through his letters, but this was sharper and she wondered what he had played in her absence and if anyone listening had understood.

There was so much she still wanted to say, so much she wanted to tell him, but her words remained closed off from her and she couldn't play well enough to express them in return. So she sat and listened and he played and played until the sun had set and the lights turned on to let him continue for a while longer. He wasn't even looking at sheet music by the end of it, he played from memory and Elizaveta took it all in, let it wrap her up and hold her close until the last note echoed through the room and the piano closed.

"It's late," Roderich said softly.

"It is." Her voice cracked on the words and sounded too loud and jarring in the left over silence.

'If you like we can do this again tomorrow," he offered, looking at the piano and smiling again. He looked back to her and she nodded. "Come on." He held out his hand to her and pulled her to her feet.

She was unsteady after sitting for so long but recovered quickly enough and led him from the room, turning out all the lights as she did so. Roderich stayed close by her side but didn't say anything more as they made their way upstairs.

"Your things are already inside your room and you have your own private bathroom," she told him once they were at his door. She berated herself for sounding so formal but didn't know what else to do and she was sure what she wanted to do was inappropriate.

"Thank you." Roderich squeezed her hand but didn't let go and made no move to enter his room. "What time is breakfast?"

"Whenever we're ready, the staff eat at a set time each morning but there is always something prepared." Mostly brought to her room in an effort to coax her out into the rest of her house or the grounds.

"Alright, what time do you want breakfast?"

"Eight?" She already knew she wouldn't be getting much sleep and she would have said earlier but she wasn't sure whether he would still keep to the same schedule after 40 years.

"Eight o'clock it is, then. Goodnight, Elizaveta." Then he squeezed her hand again and let go, pushed the door to his room open and went inside. He left it ajar, though, and she couldn't help but smile at that. Even though he must know she wouldn't take him up in the offer it presented, he'd still done it.

Her own room was just next door and it had been her choice to have him as close by as he was. None of her staff seemed surprised and she supposed they wouldn't be, some would even want to see their relationship repaired, something that remained to be seen.

It had been less than 24 hours after all and she was tired, so she went to her own room, left it ajar just as Roderich had done and changed into her nightdress (considered old fashioned by most but she had never been one to care what she should and shouldn't wear). As she settled underneath the covers and turned the light off, she reached for the long silver chain around her neck and the ring at the end of it. Their rings hadn't strictly been necessary but they'd chosen to wear them throughout their marriage anyway and it had come to represent much more than a forced joining of their lands and governments.

Elizaveta had hated the divorce, hated the pain on Roderich's face even though they were told again and again it was politics… nothing more. She and Roderich had spent the night together in unspoken understanding that it didn't mean how they felt had to stop or that _they_ had to be over, and they'd each kept their rings (though always hidden from sight).

She could hear faint noises from the next room, the bathroom door open and close and the light clicked on and off, then on again. He was most likely reading, she'd do the same if she was able to concentrate, but instead she let her mind wander and find peace in sleep - if even for a short time.

* * *

Morning came and Elizaveta greeted it with surprise, having managed to sleep for a few hours after all. The ring and part of her night dress was balled up in her fist and her hand jarred with both the pain of movement and the impression the metal had made against her palm but it was reassuring all the same. Next door she could hear the bathroom door again and she smiled, letting out a laugh as she rolled over and pushed off the bed sheets.

Everything was clear, her room, the light and the breeze from the open window and her mind still felt pleasantly light. The question of what to do with Roderich's presence in her house followed her out of the shower and back into her room though as she dressed and towel-dried her hair. It was only a little after 7, meaning she had probably managed about 4 hours sleep, but it was enough to have let her mind rest and think about more pressing matters.

She wanted him there certainly, wanted his time and his company, but needed to be able to open her mouth and say what she really wanted to. Roderich was still the person who knew her best, could read her better than anyone else, but for all she was sure they had come to an understanding the day before… she wanted to actually tell him, for him to know how much every letter had meant, how important and vital it had been that he was there yesterday.

But instead all she managed was formal words, light conversation and holding his hand. She sighed, running her brush through her hair again and fixing the front of her dress. She grabbed a blue cardigan from her chair as she left and buttoned it, tucking the long silver chain inside. She'd hidden it completely the day before but didn't want to now. Roderich had no idea where she kept it anyway, to him it would just be a silver chain and that was fine, for now at least.

The sounds of the house in early morning greeted her out in the corridor and the windows were open, lace curtains blowing in the breeze that brought in the scents of the flowers and trees outside. _How had she missed it?_ Roderich's door was wide open and he was sat at the foot of his bed, reading.

Elizaveta knocked on the door frame and he smiled as soon as he saw her.

"Good morning." She spoke in Austrian and he smiled.

"Good morning." Hungarian.

"Breakfast?" She offered, not really sure what else to say as everything she thought about sounded forced.

Roderich smiled again and placed his book on his bedside table. By his standards the room was tidy but she knew her staff would be in to sort it out the moment they were both downstairs.

She offered her hand to him automatically and he took it, weaving their fingers together and holding tightly. Elizaveta moved closer to him as they walked, Roderich didn't push for an explanation but he was smiling every time she looked at him.

"I must say, though I appreciated the choice of reading material in my room, I didn't think it would be quite so explicit." He said, as they stepped from the main downstairs hallway into the room Elizaveta favoured for breakfast.

She choked on a laugh, then looked at him. Her laugher only continued once she saw how red his face was. "I honestly didn't expect you to read any of them. You always bring your own."

He cleared his throat, then looked around to make sure they were still alone. "That is true but I was curious to see so many worn books in your guest room, which means you've read all of them, and they were….. detailed." He looked a little scandalised but also impressed, Elizaveta couldn't help the smile on her face.

"Most of them are from Francis and some are from Arthur, I think. Arthur needed someone to look after his collection before his government found out about some of the more…. interesting titles and content and Francis had run out of room." It had been a long time ago, turn of the century if she remembered right, but Roderich was right - she really had read each and every one of them. Some of them twice.

"Don't worry though, the worst of them are in my room, under lock and key." She needn't mention that she had penned some of them or that Francis had too. His had been… well… Roderich would not be pleased to find those.

"I believe you, I also _never_ want to read any of them again." He looked scandalised.

"Did you read any of the ones in your room?"

It was Roderich's turn to choke.

"I said they were _detailed."_ He emphasised the word and she was laughing again, this time leaning against him. Roderich let go of her hand and held her up against him, his arm suddenly warm around her waist and his fingers pressing lightly into her side.

With all the laughter, she had failed to notice that he'd broken through her nervousness to bring her out of herself again. But now that she had she didn't move, not even to sit at the table. Roderich was still laughing and blushing when she looked at him (They were almost at eye level with the way he was holding her) and she leaned into his side, making sure to support herself again so as not to knock them both over.

He held her closer and leaned his head against hers and she sighed as relief washed over her. Roderich's eyes were still closed when she looked at him again, they were still stood with their sides pressed together but she couldn't work out how to move closer without breaking the moment. She was sure he would step away and apologise.

"You should know that not everything I've been reading has been so depraved," she whispered, at a total loss of what else to say.

He chuckled but didn't open his eyes. "Where do you keep them?"

"In my room or the library."

"The guest room seems like an odd choice to store your unwanted Erotic Fiction."

"No one's stayed there in years and my staff have access to the library, seemed the best place to keep it." She felt Roderich tense and immediately regretted what she'd said, even though her tone had been light and honest.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, releasing her from his hold and opening his eyes.

"For what?" she asked, suddenly a little shaken.

"For not finding a way to reach you sooner, for not…."

"Rallying support and starting World War Three? Roderich, you have nothing, _nothing_ to apologise for. You've been my life line and support for over forty years and you're sorry it's taken until now for the borders to be opened again?" She sighed and spun around, getting her irrational temper back under control. "It's not your fault. We're at the mercy of our bosses - and sometimes their self-imposed bosses. What's done is done but you are here now and that…. this really, really means a lot."

"Elizaveta…" His violet eyes were wet with the threat of tears and finally, finally she could see that his letters had said more than just I love you, I love you, I love you. He had missed her deeply but had been hiding it under his relief since he'd arrived.

Elizaveta stepped forwards and took his hands, laced her fingers through his as she had done the day before and pressed her forehead against his once more. She wasn't sure which of them was shaking hardest. She wanted to pull him into her arms but didn't think either of them would be able to handle the outpouring of emotions given where they were. And although she wouldn't have minded, Roderich would still want to be careful and maintain his noble appearance when there was a chance someone else would find them.

So she concentrated on listening to the rhythm of his breathing, matching it and feeling the tremors slow down as she did. Several minutes passed that way until Roderich squeezed her fingers and let go.

"Let's go for a walk after breakfast," she suggested. "We can go through the grounds or out into the city."

He nodded and gave her a weak smile. "It's been a long time."

She smiled back and lead him to the table, sitting next to him and steadfastly avoiding picking anything up until she was sure her hands were no longer shaking.

* * *

Fisherman's Bastion, on the Buda side of the city, was beautiful in the morning sunlight. They had headed straight there after breakfast (taking the tram up the hillside rather than walking). It was quiet and no one had questioned Elizaveta when she led Roderich up onto the very top platform. Across from them her people were heading to work, starting another day in a country just starting to open up again. It made her smile and sigh with relief almost at the same time.

"It's beautiful," Roderich said, taking in the view and looking all around. He had, of course, been to Budapest before but she'd never taken him here. It was only a viewing platform after all, no music or finery for him to admire.

"Hmm." She nodded her agreement and rested against the stone wall at her side whilst Roderich continued to watch the city. Her dress floated around her on the breeze and her hair shifted back and forth across her shoulders like gentle waves on a tide.

Roderich suited his elegant aristocratic reputation but he was softer there, no hard lines and forced composure. His shirt was untucked and his summer jacket open, he hadn't seemed to care what the breeze was doing to his hair, nor that his shoes had been scuffed. He seemed happy, content, _relieved_.

In that moment Elizaveta missed similar mornings in and around Vienna or their old home. Not enough to want to return in the near future (which she acknowledged was unusual given that she now had the opportunity to go back there with him) but one day it would be nice to return, knowing she was there because she absolutely wanted to be, with no other reason or responsibility.

"I wasn't sure if you'd want to see me," he said after a comfortable silence had settled between them. "I knew that my letters were reaching you, but I didn't know wether or not you had read any of them until dinner yesterday."

"I read them, all of them." She told him, glad of the wall at her side for support. "And I am so glad you were there yesterday." It was easier to say these things when he wasn't looking at her.

"I couldn't have stayed away." The admittance seemed to cost him and he looked down, removing his glasses and rubbing his right hand across his face. He slipped his glasses back on again and looked back out into Budapest.

"If I had known now to reply I would have done so. There wouldn't have been much for me to say but I would have said something."

He shook his head. "There wasn't any way for you to write back, I knew that. So it's not as if I ever expected a reply… I just needed you to have them. I couldn't bear the thought of… of…"

She'd moved to his side and placed her left arm around him and rested her head on his shoulder. He shifted and pulled her into his arms, holding on tightly with one arm around her waist and his other hand in her hair. He was crying into her shoulder and his glasses dug awkwardly into her neck but it didn't really matter. She was more surprised by the tears than anything but they were alone and no one was going to disturb them.

"It's okay." Her voice cracked. She held him tight against her and ran her fingers through his hair. She felt as though they were back in her music room again, the accompanying sharp pain of mixed relief and loss made her all the more grateful he was with her.

"It wasn't." He admitted quietly, head still pressed against her neck.

"I know." She wished she'd been ready to do this yesterday, to fall into his arms and welcome him back into her life with a full heart.

Once Roderich had calmed down enough and Elizaveta had regained her composure he stepped back, keeping her within the circle of his arms but no longer holding onto her as though his life depended on it.

"I'm so-"

"Please don't apologise." She sighed. "I meant what I said this morning. It's not your fault and you did what you could, which was more than I ever expected would be possible." She ran her fingers through his hair again and smiled as his eyes fluttered closed as she did. "We can stay here, see the city or head home."

He opened his eyes and smiled at her, moving forwards just enough to kiss her cheek then away again. Elizaveta could only hope she wasn't doing anything as juvenile as blushing, even if the heat in her cheeks told her otherwise.

"Show me your capital Elizaveta, please."

* * *

They'd taken a long walk though the city, across two of the main bridges across the Danube and along river front. They'd stopped in a small concert hall within the city and had lunch in the city centre. Roderich had laughed when they walked past a book store but Elizaveta just rolled her eyes and pulled him along.

Eventually they headed back in the late afternoon and, after an early dinner, Elizaveta sat and listened whilst Roderich played the piano then her violin.

"I'll teach you again, if you'd like," he offered, loosening the bow strings and placing it back inside the case. The violin was cleaned before it followed.

"It might take a while."

"We have time."

She smiled at this and when he turned to look at her, he smiled back. It was still evening and far too early to head to bed so when he walked over and sat down beside her, she instead stood and pulled him back to his feet.

"I didn't think you meant right now."

She laughed. "I didn't." She led him to a record player in the corner and dropped his hand whilst she found what she wanted to play, queued up the record then turned to Roderich and took a bow before offering her hand. "Would you like to dance?"

He did his best impression of a curtsey and took her offered hand, letting her lead and settling into position. Dancing was something Elizaveta had always thought she would hate. In truth it wasn't so much the dancing as the events at which she were expected to dance that were the problem. As Roderich's wife, she had been expected to attend as his partner with the same grace and temperament as he had. Neither of those things had been in her nature and she had had to adapt quickly. But he had been kind, keeping his frustrations in check and teaching her to follow as well as to lead.

She had enjoyed dancing on their terms - no one else's - and she found a freedom in it that always eluded her with music. Once she knew the steps she could move without thought and enjoy it. As peculiar as it was, it sometimes felt like engaging in battle where all that mattered was the fight and letting it take you over. Roderich preferred the Waltz but she loved the quick step and the faster dances for formal balls. Now though they danced a Viennese Waltz (the modern version of course, she wanted to stay as close to him as possible).

They were both a little rusty but she didn't mind and Roderich didn't resist when she spun him, then followed by spinning her and taking the lead in another loop of the music room. It was a well practiced tactic and a game they used to play once they had become more comfortable with each other.

It was wonderful to do it again.

The record tapered off and they replaced it with another before they were both tired and yawning. It was a little early to head to bed but the four hours of sleep she had managed the night before were catching up with her and she needed to rest. Roderich didn't look like he was doing any better, though that could have been because he wasn't used to any kind of strenuous activity. He looked lovely like that, flushed and out of breath with a smile that reached his eyes. Carefree and open in a way that was rare to see and all the more precious to witness again.

"Wait here," Roderich told her once the record had finished, she held her hand over her mouth as she yawned and waited. He was flicking through the whole collection before finding something he approved of and hiding the cover from her view as she changed them over and queued it up.

He bowed to her this time, swooping low and holding out his hand as he stood. Elizaveta chuckled and took it. The music was slower and not exactly something they could dance to but beautiful all the same. He held her close to him and rested his head on her shoulder, she breathed out slowly and did the same. They weren't so much dancing as swaying to the music but that was probably Roderich's reason for choosing it.

She hadn't realised how tightly she was holding onto him until her hands started to cramp and she had to loosened them. Roderich didn't say anything but welcomed it when she pressed herself closer to him and moved her arms so that they wrapped around his back instead.

Elizaveta hadn't forgotten how good it had felt to hold and be held like this but she had pushed it aside far enough that it hardly ever crossed her mind. Now… now she couldn't _not_ think about it and she was glad they hadn't done this the night before because she doubted she'd have been able to let go. It would have been too much all at once. It probably still was, but she didn't care. His breath tickled her neck and his heart beat steadily in his chest, he was warm and solid and holding him made her feel whole in a way that no one and nothing else ever had.

She knew she was supposed to take her time to recover, get used to being connecting to the outside world, to other countries beyond Roderich's and even get used to his presence in her house. But patience wasn't ever exactly her strong point. Not when it came to this.

It seemed pointless to keep Roderich at bay because she thought she had to, though she had no idea how exactly she was going to bring him any closer. It had just happened last time, it wasn't intentional - their marriage was political in nature after all - but they'd fallen in love anyway, which had just made it hurt all the more when it had ended.

Then again, he had left his door open to his room the night before and that was always an invitation, one they had agreed upon decades before. There was of course the option of discussing it like adults but every time she tried to find the words she failed and it was clear Roderich wouldn't push her. He had seemed to think he was doing just that in Fisherman's Bastion. No, this was up to her.

"Are you asleep?" Roderich asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"No. Just thinking."

He made a noise of acceptance but didn't push her to say anymore.

"We should probably head to bed though." Elizaveta told him.

He lifted his head and loosened his hold on her and she (unwillingly) did the same. It was awkward, both of them just standing there, and Elizaveta shook herself out of it, turning her attention to the record player and putting everything back in place.

Roderich was stood there waiting awkwardly in the middle of the room when she took his hand and led him towards the door. There was nothing else for it, she'd have to ignore the way her heart was thudding in her chest and the blush undoubtedly crawling back into her cheeks and do _something_.

Neither of them spoke, which was awkward, and she seemed to be on the verge of walking too quickly, which was more awkward. But it could have been worse. When they stopped outside his room Roderich looked bewildered and Elizaveta didn't want to guess what she looked like.

"Um, If you want you can… my door will be open," she said, managing for the most part to make eye contact. "And if not, I'll see you in the morning," she added, then reached up and kissed him on the cheek, squeezed his hand and let go. She was in her room with the door closed firmly behind her and resting against it before she could get a hold of herself.

She opened the door again, loud enough for Roderich to hear her, and headed to the bathroom to get ready for bed. It may not have been elegant but it was better than nothing _and Roderich could decide to still be a perfect gentleman _she reminded herself.

Face washed, teeth brushed and dressed for bed, Elizaveta made her way back into her bedroom and sat down on the bed. She slipped her necklace underneath her night dress and sat on the covers. Part of her had hoped he would be ready and waiting in her room but she would have heard him, as it was she could hear sounds from the other room and regardless of where he chose to spend the night, it was clear he was getting ready for bed.

She felt ridiculous, yesterday morning she had barely been in her right mind and now she was acting like an idiot. She could read and write romance, perfect prose where everything was said easily and earnestly, whilst in real life Roderich could make her blush and laugh and fret like the kind of helpless maiden (or lord) she'd always despised. Love made her brave but it made her stupid as well. She sighed and settled against the headboard, staring at the door even though it wouldn't make any difference.

Ten minutes later she heard Roderich's door open and close. Her heard was thudding so loud she could hear it in her ears. Then he knocked and she couldn't help the bark of nervous laughter that escaped her.

"Come in," she told him, placing her hands in her lap and trying to look normal. Roderich pushed open the door and closed it carefully behind him. He wore boxer shorts and a large old shirt, it was similar enough to what he used to wear to make her smile.

He coughed to get her attention and she realised she had been staring. Then he continued to stand there by the door, his cheeks turning red and his hands fisted awkwardly at his sides.

"This wasn't meant to be awkward," she told him. "I thought… well I didn't think…. I wasn't expecting you to be there yesterday."

"Honestly?"

"Do you want to sit down?" She nodded her head towards the other side of her bed and he walked over, climbed up into the bed and sat next to her on top of the covers.

"Did you really not expect to see me?" He sounded calm but she could tell from the tension in his expression and the tightness in his shoulders that he wasn't.

"I was hoping you'd be there but the whole thing was so surreal and I'd been on my own for so long that it didn't seem possible. It had been me and your letters, a large house and a mountain of books." She reached for his hand and he took hold of it between both of his in his lap.

"Does it feel real now?" His hands were warm around hers and she squeezed his fingers.

"Yes. Yesterday felt like waking up again and now… now everything feels more real." When she looked at him again, he was nodding and looking at their hands. "It's felt real since yesterday evening." She sighed.

"I love you, Elizaveta." His voice was tight and she knew he was on the verge of tears again. "I was always, always going to be there. Forty years is a long, long time but I can't imagine ever not loving you, not now, not after everything."

"Roderich." She pulled on his hands to make him look at her. She was right, his violet eyes were brimming with tears. She used her free hand to remove his glasses and put them on the table next to the bed. "I love you too but I couldn't find the words to tell you… and when I tried it just seemed like it wasn't enough. You've done so much for me, so much more than I ever expected." He was crying now, silently. "It's not how it sounds… it's not that I thought you didn't love me enough… it's not even that I wouldn't have done it in your place because I would and I can't imagine what it was like for you out there, only what it was like for me in here and I'd been here so long I wasn't sure there would ever be a way out. I always wanted one but after 1956… there was no way I was going to try." She sighed, wiping away his tears and moving around to kneel at his side. "But my boss… he knows, he's always known how much I've missed you so I'm not surprised they opened the border."

"Elizaveta, you fought my battles for me when I couldn't… you've been my strength when I wasn't capable… I just wanted to be that for you in return."

She pulled her hand out of his hold and instead threw her arms around him and held him tight against her, resting on her knees with his head tucked under her chin. His tears soaked right through her night shirt and her breath hitched as he sobbed openly against her. She could only hold him tight and close and wait for them to stop. One of her hands was free enough to run through his hair and she pressed kisses against his head.

She didn't tell him it was okay like she had that morning, she didn't say anything at all but let him cry it all out as the lump in her throat got bigger and her own tears started to fall. He must have realised because he pulled her down to eye level with him.

For a moment they just looked at each other and she smiled at his unvoiced question, giving him one small nod before he kissed her. Relief crashed over her and she closed her eyes, letting him guide her back against him until she was sat in his lap with her arms still around him. It was unhurried and light enough that she could pull away from him if she'd wanted to but just like everything else over the past two days, she had no intention of doing that at all.

When she sat back he was smiling, face still wet with tears but they'd stopped falling. Elizaveta wiped her face with the long sleeves of her night shirt and blinked the rest from her eyes. Roderich looked happier, smiling with relief and affection at her.

"I wanted to do that before in the music room, and this morning, and this afternoon and most of yesterday," he admitted and she laughed, kissing him again with a little more force than she had intended. He made a sound of surprise when the back of his head hit the headboard but he didn't stop kissing her and opened his mouth up to hers. She pressed in closer and (mindful of the headboard) moved so that one of her hands was holding onto the back of his head.

They kissed long and slow until Elizaveta sat back again. Roderich leaned forwards to rest his head on her shoulder, still catching his breath. She closed her eyes and listened to him, concentrating on the feel of his breath against her shoulder and the weight of him in her arms. Real and solid and _there_.

"I just need you to be you," she said after a while. He made a noise against her shoulder so she continued. "You don't ever have to be anything but who you are. Not for me. So thank you…. what you did, what you continue to do… that's all I need."

Roderich lifted his head and nodded, unable to hide a yawn that betrayed how tired he actually was. Elizaveta followed suit and got up off his lap and pulled back the covers. "We can talk in the morning," she explained and he nodded, moving and allowing her to get into bed. The bed was four poster with white linen curtains tied up on all corners. "You can close them if you like," she offered, remembering the deep red velvet ones that had hung from their bed in his house. She hadn't ever used these and the only time they were ever untied was so that they could be washed.

Roderich seemed to like the idea, though, and he untied them all, pulling them around the bed until all that was left was to climb in and finish the job. They let enough light through so that she could see the last remains of the sunset beyond them but it felt like they were somewhere else, in their own tiny quiet little universe.

He slid underneath the covers and Elizaveta lifted her side of the sheets up just a little in invitation.

"I wasn't sure if…" He yawned again but moved across the mattress to her side.

"Did you sleep last night?" She asked as he settled against her with his head against her breasts and his arm across her waist.

"No, not really," he admitted at last. "I couldn't settle. Even your cast off erotic fiction wasn't enough to lull me to sleep." She could tell he was keeping his tone light for her benefit and she let him. She tightened her arm around his back and kissed the top of her head.

"I was surprised I slept at all," she told him, he mumbled in reply and nuzzled closer against her. "Good night Roderich." His reply was muffled and Elizaveta yawned, closing her eyes and settling against the cushions and Roderich before sleep claimed her as well.

* * *

_Three months Later_

Roderich had stayed and Elizaveta had never even considered asking him to leave, his things had been unpacked into her room within the first week, with more clothes and his violin arriving before the end of the next.

They talked - at length - and she showed him more of her country, visiting other cities and the country side whenever they could. She'd started to play the Violin again and they'd sit together in the evenings, playing and dancing.

Feli and Ludwig had visited them once Elizaveta had felt up to it and even she had been surprised at Feli's strong outpouring of emotion, even Ludwig seemed sorry. She spent most of the week they visited comforting Feli and making sure he was okay, even pretending not to notice when she found him and Ludwig asleep and wrapped around each other in the gardens. Roderich had told her he was proud of her and looked past her excuse about her old camera not working (he did buy her a new one, though).

The only thing they didn't talk about was how he'd managed to write to her during all that time. He said he had promised not to tell her who was helping him and she had accepted it. He had pointed out that if she managed to figure it out on her own then that was fine, he just couldn't give away their identity.

Her people, her land, was changing, coming into itself and making its first tentative steps into a world outside of Communist control. She was happy to let them do as they pleased and although they ran things past her and kept her up to date, the pressures she had once felt had abated. They even seemed pleased Roderich was living with her and had been keen to remind her that it was possible to marry Roderich without uniting them politically again.

Summer was coming to a close and though the days were still long the light receded a little earlier each day and the air held a chill to it that had been absent for months. This evening they'd ended up in her garden, with blankets over the worn wooden bench behind them incase they were cold.

"Elizaveta?" Roderich asked, twirling her hair around his fingers and watching the curls spring loose when he let go. They were sat on the grass, both leaning against the bench behind them as they watched the sun go down.

"Hmm?"

"How long can I stay?" She turned to look at him, tugging his hand with the movement until he unraveled her hair and let go.

"As long as you want to, why? Has your boss asked you to go back?" She was suddenly worried, Roderich hadn't mentioned anything about this before now and he'd seemed so relaxed and happy all day -

"No, I honestly think they're happy to be rid of me at the moment," he said, but after seeing her expression he took her hand and held in in his. "I just wanted to make sure I wasn't outstaying my welcome."

"Roderich…You are welcome to stay here for as long as you want to." She pulled his hand into her lap and held on tightly as old fears resurfaced and tried to latch on to her. "I just didn't know how long you wanted that to be."

He looked at her and held her gaze for a long, long time. His violet eyes were serious but open, it was clearly trying to understand something he wasn't quite ready to voice. He looked like he had the morning he'd found the chain around her neck with her old wedding ring, only this time she didn't think Roderich was going to take her back to bed and _love_ her in quite the way he had that morning.

"I don't think I need to leave here any time soon, and I certainly don't want to. My boss will want me to go back - if only for a short time - in a year or two and when he does, you should come with me." He smiled at her. "Then maybe we should go and visit a few of the others whilst we're gone."

Elizaveta thought about it and nodded, he was right of course, she would have to start actively being part of things again. "Okay. Though after Vienna we should go and see Feli, he should have calmed down by then. I should probably see Arthur, too."

"Arthur?" Roderich asked, as surprised as she'd expected and a little wary.

She nodded. "It's probably okay to give him his books back, most of their content is legal now."

Roderich coughed and laughed at the same time, which, although funny to watch, worried her for a moment before he regained his breath and settled down again. "Most?"

"You really, really don't want to know."

He laughed at that. Silence fell between them again, comfortable and relaxing. Her panic had thankfully been short lived and now once again she could lean back and relax.

The evening grew colder and eventually they had to stand to pull the blankets down and around them but they stayed on the picnic blanket, huddled together and content. Her staff brought them something warm to drink and they stayed there, together, under the emerging stars shining through the dark sky until they were ready to head inside.

* * *

_Isle of Wight, England, Summer 1989_

"Arthur! POost!" Alfred yelled from downstairs. Arthur pulled the pillows over his head and tried to drown out the noise from his incessant, irritating but much loved idiot.

Alfred had spent the last two days running around all over the place talking about how 'Quaint' everything was and how 'Old Fashioned in the best kind of way' he found everything. Arthur had regretted bringing him here the moment they'd stepped off the boat but like it or not, they were there for the next two and a half weeks so he'd been trying to make the most of it.

_Trying._

He could hear Alfred thudding up the stairs and he groaned into his pillow. It was too early for this. 6:30 AM was too early for most things when you were on holiday.

"Hey, Arthur." Alfred had pushed open the door to their bedroom with more force and enthusiasm than necessary, as usual.

"Piss off."

"But there's a postcard from Budapest for you."

Arthur pulled the pillow away slowly to see Alfred stood in his ridiculous Disney pyjamas and a smile on his face as he held out the postcard in both hands. He closed his eyes and tried to will everything away. That right there was more enthusiasm than should ever be faced before a cup of tea.

"Have you read it?" Arthur asked, holding out his hand. Alfred took this as an invitation to sit on the bed in the small gap between Arthur and the edge of the mattress, there wasn't quite enough room but Arthur stood… his… stayed where he was.

"Only the start of it."

Arthur sighed. "Hand me the postcard, Alfred." He made a grab for it and Alfred let go.

"I figured you'd want to see it straight away, not many people have this address right? You told me it was your private summer residence." Alfred was - once again - making the place sound far grander than it actually was. The small house was on a heritage site close to the steam railway but Arthur maintained it (though that had lapsed after the wars) and after fixing it up, he had recently decided to start using it again.

"It is." Alfred seemed to think this was enough of an answer… unless… "You read the whole thing didn't you."

Alfred just smiled. "It's a postcard, it was hard to miss."

Arthur read the message on the card and smiled. It was still early and he still very much wanted to be sleeping but there were worse things to have shoved in your face at this time in the morning. Roderich's handwriting was small but easy to read and his message clear; he was there, Elizaveta was safe and they were both getting to know each other again.

"You pretend to be such a grumpy old man but you're actually just a massive sweetheart." Alfred told him as soon as Arthur had put the postcard down. "But how does he have this address? I didn't think you and Roderich were that close."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Look at the card again Alfred, what does it say on the address side?"

"Arthur Kirkland, England, United Kingdom. Huh."

Arthur just rolled over and placed his hands over his eyes, not only did he have to wake up hours before he wanted to but now he'd no doubt have to discuss whether or not his magic was real with someone who lived with an alien.

"So, all that magic you've been talking about… you use it to run a secret postal service?" He couldn't tell if Alfred was amused or unimpressed.

"Piss of, Alfred." But he was apparently having none of it because the next thing Arthur knew the covers had been pulled back and away from him. "Seriously-"

"You could always just magic the covers back on."

Arthur turned over, livid and ready to push Alfred off the bed.

"Okay, okay!" Alfred held his hands up in surrender. "I know, I know, it doesn't work that way… I was… well it doesn't matter." He slumped down in bed and pulled the covers back up and over them, snagging the other pillow from where Arthur had dropped it and settled down next to him. Arthur continued to glare at him.

"Are you going to let me go back to sleep?" He asked.

Alfred nodded and removed his glasses, putting them somewhere on the beside table beside him. "I do have one question, though."

"Only one?"

"Only one for now." He slid over the mattress and draped himself over Arthur. Arthur was too tired to protest (not that he really minded).

"Get it over with, then."

"How?"

Arthur sighed. "That's a pretty big question and it was a long time ago." He rolled over and buried his head in the pillow. Alfred followed and wrapped himself around Arthur from behind. His irritation started to dissipate and he felt himself lean back into Alfred's warmth.

"Oh, okay." Alfred didn't say anything else but Arthur could tell he wanted to.

"I'll show you later on, if you're still willing to believe me when I next wake up." He felt Alfred relax around him.

"I will, I promise." Alfred said.

It was silent for no more than a minute before Alfred spoke again.

"You helped him write to her for forty years-"

"Alfred." Arthur warned digging his fingers into Alfred's arm around his waist.

"Right, sorry. Night - again." Then Alfred added, "I love you." Very quietly.

Arthur smiled despite himself. "I love you too." And finally, finally he went back to sleep.

_Fin_

* * *

**Notes:**

**_1956 - _**_Referers to the attempted and initially successful (for a few days) uprising in Autumn 1956 within Hungary. To explain it all I would probably end up writing an essay longer than the actual story…. in brief (and I mean so brief I am most certainly NOT doing it justice and any one interested should look it up). It was the first anti-totalitarian revolution and it ended in a blood bath. Not helped at all by the continuing cold war, it meant that no one stood up to help the revolution lest risk a third world war no one wanted._

**_Tragedy and choosing sides in WWII - _**_Pál Teleki was Priminister in Hungary and committed suicide on 3rd April 1941 over the decision to side with the Axis or Allied powers, he is quoted as saying in a letter to Miklós Horthy "We Have allied ourselves with villains." Britain broke democratic relations shortly after but it wasn't until December of that year that Britain Declared war on Hungary. _

**_The fate of Prussia - _**_Given that Prussia is still around in Hetalia after the wars it made sense to add this in, plus with all their history I think Elizaveta would at least want to know he was okay. In 1947 the Allied control council formally dissolved Prussia and it became East Germany, some areas were also divided up into West Germany as well. (My knowledge on this is a little sketchy as it's been years since I studied this but you can find more information on line and at local libraries)._

**_Reopening the Borders with Austria - _**_21st May 1989 Niklós Németh's Government decided to dismantled the Iron Curtain between Austria and Hungary._

**_Fishermans Bastion - _**_ Built in the late 1800's to early 1900's on the Buda side of the city of Budapest it has probably the best views of the city including the palace, the parliament building and the Danube. Named after the guild of fisher men. It has 7 towers that represent the 7 tribes that settled to form Hungary. It's beautiful - look it up._

**_Side note-_**_ I've also actually been to Budapest - I went with my best friend last year and it was amazing. I would love to go back there. Fishermans Bastion is beautiful and the view of the city is wonderful and the place it's self is like being in a fairy tale castle or a computer game world._

_Most information from 'A Concise History of Hungary' by Miklós Molnár as well as Wikipedia and other Historical websites._

_**Arthur's Summer House - **I love the Isle of Whight and the house mentioned really does exist in the location __mentioned. I took a picture of it a few years ago and I still image that he lives there! _


End file.
